Hungry
by slash-whump-addict
Summary: Directly follows my story 'Thirsty'. Having quenched his thirst, Dean now wants to sate his hunger. Sam tags along, and finds it's not the food he's hungry for... *this site appears to hate me, formatting is all messed up. I'll  correct ASAP! :s *


**Hungry**

Only moments ago, Dean had finished his beer and announced he was hungry. He said he didn't feel like staying holed up in the sweltering motel room, and so they were eating out tonight. Sam continued watching him as the words sank into his tired (and not at all lust fogged) brain.

He was vaguely aware of his heart rate increasing as he watched Dean's thigh muscles flex as he stood. He raised his arms above his head and twisted the muscles loose in his back, and Sam could've sworn his heart stopped beating altogether. As Dean stretched, the already close fitting grey t-shirt he was wearing pulled tighter over muscled arms and chest, at the same time rising up above the waistband of his jeans.

Sam tried to look away. He tried desperately not to look at the exposed strip of flesh that was just _begging_ to be nuzzled and stroked with fingers, tongue and teeth; but he failed miserably. His eyes drifted over the taught muscle underneath Dean's slightly rounded belly, soft golden brown hair catching the light pouring in from the window, perfectly highlighting the moles hiding just to the side of it. He unconsciously let out a low moan, and dragged his gaze up to Dean's eyes when he realised he was being spoken to again.

"Sam, I said, are you hungry too?"

Licking his lips and swallowing, Sam truthfully answered, "Yeah. _God yes_ I'm hungry."

The nearby diner was almost deserted when they arrived.

"I'll have the Monster bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and extra mayo please, sweetheart!" Dean chirruped at the waitress. Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, which earned him a glare from his brother. Sam ordered his grilled chicken salad and glared back at Dean.

"Can't you go for an average portion of _anything_, Dean?

He watched as the older man leaned over the table, his trademark grin spreading across his face as he looked around the small diner, and whispered, "There's _nothing_ that's average about me little bro', extra large is the order of the day!"

Sam almost choked on the mouthful of diet Coke he'd just taken, as Dean's comment sunk in. He felt a blush rise from his chest right up to his cheeks at the double entendré. Dean threw his head back in laughter, and Sam tried not to gawk at the long beautiful neck bared to him; concentrating on keeping his blood flow in the top half of his body. He was successful for the most part… until their meal arrived.

As Dean lifted the enormous burger to his mouth and took the biggest bite possible, Sam couldn't help smiling as he wondered how anyone could be so enthusiastic over something he ate on a regular basis. Watching more closely, he also found himself wondering just how much Dean could actually fit into that mouth of his without choking.

Alarmed at himself, Sam shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth so hard, he managed to stab himself on the inside of his cheek, and let out a startled cry.

"You ok, Sammy?" Dean asked around his food, sending bits of God knows what flying out of his mouth and onto the table.

"I'm _fine_, Dean, stop fussing." he replied, spearing a particularly large piece of tomato and stuffing it into his mouth, staring resolutely at his plate as he chewed.

Watching someone all but inhale their food, should be disgusting, Sam thought. It _should_, but it seemed that Dean Winchester could make just about anything seem sexy – or so Sam imagined, you know, if he was into guys… and his brother. Which obviously, he wasn't - he just had an open mind, he decided. Sam was man enough to admit when another guy was attractive.

He carried on this line of thought, just in case one day he got asked which guy(s) he thought were attractive. Johnny Depp – obviously - because any guy who claimed otherwise was a either a liar, or blind, because hellooo, Johnny Depp! A groan from across the table made him turn his attention back to his brother.

Dean was looking totally blissed out. His face was slightly flushed and his eyelids flickered as he moaned around his mouthful of burger - it looked damn near orgasmic in Sam's opinion. That thought caused him to let out his own groan, fidgeting in his seat as he tried to get comfortable in his suddenly far too tight jeans.

"Jesus Dean, shut up! It's a fucking burger, you sound like a cheap porn star!"

Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked. He lowered his burger and tipped it towards Sam, squeezing it so that a combination of mayo, meat juices, grease and melted cheese oozed out slightly. He lifted it back to his mouth, and Sam sat transfixed as Dean's tongue snaked out to slowly swipe at the mixture. He felt heat flooding his body as Dean let out a purposefully loud and exaggerated moan as he took it into his mouth.

"Lighten up, Sammy. Can't a guy enjoy his food anymore?"

"There's enjoying it, and there's _enjoying_ it! You're embarrassing, shut the hell up!" Sam huffed. He began eating his salad quickly – the sooner they got out of there the better. Maybe if he hurried, Dean would take the hint and finish up quickly too. That way, Sam wouldn't have to sit through any more (not at all arousing) sights and sounds of his brother enjoying his meal.

Of course, that didn't happen.

"What's the rush?" Dean asked with a confused look on his face after noticing the change in Sam's eating. "You got somewhere to be?"

"No, I guess I'm just hungrier than I thought." he lied.

Dean shrugged, and dunked one of his fries in a large blob of ketchup and began slowly slurping it off. "Too bad Sammy, I'm not in the mood for rushing. I like to take things nice and slow sometimes, to take the time to really get the most of it. Where's the pleasure in it being over too quick? There's a time and a place for quick and dirty, but that's not now."

Sam inhaled sharply, the innuendo in Dean's words immediately sending his mind into the gutter. He suddenly had thoughts of Dean taking the time to slowly saviour something other than food; and if he would make the same kinds of noises and pull the same faces. He thought about repeatedly banging his head on the wooden backboard behind him in frustration, but instead settled for stabbing a piece of chicken so hard it almost flew off his plate.

_Of course_ his brother was doing his best to make Sam suffer. It was all part of the unwritten - but very well known - rules of being the older sibling.

Sam was under no illusion this time. It wasn't the heat that was getting to him. It was all Dean's fault for making sex noises, which would make anyone who'd not had any in a long time, a little turned on. That was all there was to it, because there was no way that he was lusting over his brother. Nope, no way!

There was absolutely nothing arousing about the smear of mayonnaise next to Dean's lower lip, which his tongue _just_ kept missing when it came out after each bite Dean took. Sam absolutely didn't want to lick it off himself, and taste the burger and _Dean_ there.

It was ridiculous that it would even cross Sam's mind to dip his own finger in the ketchup and have Dean lick and suck it off. The thought of Dean's lips and tongue, hot and wet around his finger definitely didn't make him think of replacing the finger with another part of his body.

As if being tormented by Dean doing obscene things to his beer bottle wasn't enough, the fact was that Sam was now being forced to remain firmly in his seat, to avoid anyone seeing the predicament he was in. It felt like all the blood in his body was now stuck in his groin. He was so hard it was painful, and he was stuck here, with what felt like no end in sight.

It was going to be a very long night…

**A/N: This is turning into a series, but each story *can* be read as stand alones, though obviously I'd recommend reading each in turn! I'll post the next story as soon as I have tinkered with it some more! :)**


End file.
